The Hero
by Deana
Summary: Bart gets the shock of his life when he unexpectedly finds, of all things, a baby. Where did it come from, and who is its mother? Bart takes the baby to the closest town, assuming that it's in danger...and he's right. The trouble is, the danger finds its way to him, too.
1. Unexpected Discovery

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**THE HERO**  
>A Maverick story<br>By Deana

Disclaimer: I don't own Bart Maverick, darn it.

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Bart Maverick was tired. He'd been riding for days and camping at night, and Bart did not enjoy camping. Sleeping on the ground was just too uncomfortable, especially after riding all day…and how could anyone sleep well with the risk of being bitten by a snake? At the moment, Bart was riding slowly, his body aching too much to ride fast. It was a good thing, for if his horse had been at a gallop, he would never had heard the sound that was probably the last thing he'd ever expected to hear.

A baby crying.

Frowning, Bart stopped his horse and looked around, wondering if there was a woman nearby who needed help. He heard nothing but the cries, and dismounted from his horse with a wince, walking stiffly until his legs loosened up a little. The sound seemed to get softer, so he turned around and tried to follow it…until he felt like he was right on top of it.

Looking up, Bart saw something that shocked him to the core: there was a baby bassinet in the tree over his head. Stunned, he looked around again as if someone would magically appear to explain this bizarre sight.

No one did.

Looking up at the bassinet, Bart covered his mouth with one hand while he contemplated it, wondering for a second if he was dreaming. Resisting the urge to pinch himself, he saw a boulder at the base of the tree, which explained how the baby's mother had reached high enough to put her child there. Shaking his head at the questions that were running through his mind, Bart reached up and took hold of the bassinet, carefully pulling it down and looking inside.

The baby was tiny, appearing to be no more than a month or two old.

In shock again, to actually see the baby and realize that he was not imagining this, Bart sank down to the ground and set the bassinet down, sitting beside it and trying to figure out what to do. Was the baby's mother nearby, perhaps bathing in a nearby lake? No…if so, she would've kept the baby with her on the bank. What had happened was suddenly obvious: the baby's mother had hidden her child…but from what, or who, and where was she now?

There was nothing Bart could do but take the baby with him. As he realized this, Bart took the bassinet and stood again, though he was tempted to remain sitting for a while. A town had to be nearby in order for the baby's mother to have left it here, so he headed over to his horse before suddenly realizing something; what if the mother was lying dead or injured nearby?

Turning, Bart walked around, looking everywhere. He found nothing, to his relief…the last thing he needed was to be accused of murder and kidnapping!

Heading back towards his horse, he realized that he wouldn't be able to mount while holding the bassinet. Placing it on the ground again, he took the blanket off the baby and laid it on the ground, before he gently lifted the baby out and placed it on top. There was a handle on each end of the bassinet, which enabled him to tie it to the horse. Afterwards, he knelt and nervously picked up the baby, holding it upright against his chest with his right hand, which left him able to grab the saddle horn with his left hand to mount. He let out a breath once he was seated, relieved that he hadn't dropped the baby. Looking down at it, he carefully shifted it to lie in his left arm, where it gurgled and moved feebly.

With a sigh, Bart rode on, hoping that he would come upon a town soon…and some answers.

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The baby was crying again when Bart reached town, and he realized that the poor thing must be starving…he had no idea how long it had been in the tree. He headed straight for the hotel, as it was after dark and he was hungry too. It was harder to get down from the horse while holding the baby than it had been to mount it, and he one-handedly grabbed his saddlebag and tossed it over his right shoulder before taking the bassinet off the horse and heading inside.

The desk clerk looked up, surprised to see a man with a baby, especially when said man was dusty and travel-worn.

"I need a room, please," Bart tiredly said, hardly able to keep his eyes open. "A double."

"Of course. Sign here," said the clerk, pointing at the register.

Bart took the quill and did so, awkwardly bouncing the baby in his arm when it continued to cry. "Is the kitchen still open?" he asked, not sure what time it currently was.

The clerk nodded.

"Thank God," Bart sighed. "Can you send something up?"

The clerk nodded. "The best seller tonight was a fabulous beef stew."

Bart nodded. "Perfect." He looked at the baby, who was still crying. "Do you have any milk?"

The clerk nodded.

"And, uh…" said Bart. "Something that I can use to feed it to the baby with?" He was tempted—_so_ tempted, to tell the clerk what had happened and if he knew whom the baby might belong to, or if he had a wife who would take it in, but he decided that it was safer for the baby if no one knew he—or she?—was there. Tomorrow he would talk to the sheriff, and go from there.

The clerk made a face. "I think we might…all you need is a glass bottle with a piece of rubber on top. I'll search the kitchen. Do you need napkins?"

The question made Bart blink. "Napkins?"

"For changing the baby."

Bart blinked again; he hadn't even thought of that. "Oh. Yes. I, uh…didn't come equipped," he said, with a laugh.

The clerk nodded and didn't act suspicious, to Bart's relief.

Bart took the key that he was handed and made his way up the stairs, opening the door to number ten and going inside. He placed the bassinet on one of the beds, before heading to the other one and lying down with a sigh, closing his eyes tiredly.

The baby continued to cry, but Bart knew that there was nothing he could do until the milk came. He suddenly remembered about the napkins, and wondered if the baby needed to be changed, too. He was _not_ looking forward to that.

Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and Bart stiffly got up and opened it, taking the tray that was handed to him. He placed it on the nightstand before taking off the cover and finding a bowl of steaming beef stew, as well as a glass bottle filled with milk and a pile of cloth napkins. He took one of the napkins and went over to the bassinet, before gently lifting the baby out and laying it on the bed. He unwrapped the blanket covering it and stared at its nappy, finding that it was fastened with pins. He carefully removed them and unwrapped the nappy, finding that it was wet indeed, and the baby was a girl. He quickly wrapped the new nappy around her and nervously fastened it with the pins, hoping that he did it right and they wouldn't prick the baby. Once that was done, he carefully picked her up, went over to the other bed, and sat down with his back against the headboard. "I hope you like cow's milk," he said, reaching for the bottle and pointing the rubber tip at her mouth.

The baby immediately began to suck on it, her cries abruptly stopping.

Bart sighed with relief, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. This was the first time he'd ever had to take care of a baby, and he was glad to see that he was succeeding so far. He was so tired that he nearly fell asleep, but he roused himself and suddenly remembered the stew.

Shifting his left arm further around the baby so he could hold the bottle with that hand, he took the bowl of stew off the nightstand and placed it beside himself on the bed so he could eat it. It was delicious, and just what he'd needed.

The baby eventually finished the whole bottle of milk, and fell asleep in Bart's arm. He stared at her for a while, struck by the strangeness of the situation. If anyone had told him that he was going to find a baby and end up taking care of it, he would've thought them insane. He simply watched the baby for a few minutes, until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore and put her back in the bassinet.

Minutes later, he fell asleep wondering what her name was.

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A few hours later, Bart was woken by a sound that nearly startled the wits out of him.

The baby was crying.

Bart instantly jumped up, nearly falling out of the bed and having to grab the nightstand to steady himself. It took him a few seconds to understand just what he was hearing, and he quickly lit the lamp and stumbled over to the other bed. "What's the matter?" he asked the baby, not really expecting a reply.

The baby continued to cry, waving her little fists.

Rubbing his eyes for a few seconds, Bart sighed before carefully taking the baby out of the bassinet, and immediately found out what the problem was. The baby was wet again…and so were the folded blankets in the bassinet. He laid her on the bed and managed to change her nappy despite being half-asleep, but realized that he couldn't put her back on top of the wet blankets. Looking around the room, he spotted towels next to the bowl and pitcher on the dresser, and fetched them, putting the wet blankets on the bed and placing the clean towels in the bassinet.

"There," he said to the baby. "That should work." He picked her up and put her back inside, where she lay still crying, though not as much.

"What is it now?" he asked, confused. He doubted that she was hungry already…he'd been amazed when she'd finished every drop in the bottle. Not knowing what else to do, he sat on the bed and started to rock the bassinet, understanding at least why it was rounded on bottom rather than square.

It took a few minutes, but the baby quieted down and fell asleep.

Relieved, Bart went back to bed himself…but a few hours later, the same thing happened again, and this time, the baby would not stop crying.

Bart was sitting up on his bed holding her, lightly bouncing her around. "I don't know what you need," he whined. "Go back to sleep…_please_."

The baby would not have it.

When dawn rose, Bart felt desperate. He'd already been tired enough when he'd arrived in town, and then only gotten a few hours of sleep. He was still holding the baby, who had only _just _quieted down and lay sleeping in his arm. Carefully, he stood and went over to the bassinet and started to lie her back in it…but she abruptly woke and started to cry again.

"Oh _no,_" he groaned, sitting on the bed and covering his eyes with one hand. There was a sudden knock on the door, and he said, "Come in," without even thinking.

It was the desk clerk. "I could hear it downstairs," he said, walking in. In his hand was a bottle of milk. He walked over to Bart and handed it to him.

Bart took the bottle and pointed the rubber tip at the baby's mouth. Instantly, the crying stopped and she began to drink it.

The clerk smiled.

Bart sighed with relief and closed his eyes, slumping against the headboard. "Thank you," he said, gratefully.

The clerk nodded. "Is it a girl or a boy?"

"A girl."

"Aha," said the clerk. "What's her name?"

Bart's eyes popped open at that, and he hesitated.

The clerk gave him a sympathetic look, assuming that Bart had a wife who'd died in childbirth and he hadn't named his infant daughter yet. He reached over and patted Bart's shoulder. "Don't worry, there's plenty of time for that. Just be glad that you have her, it'll help ease your loss."

His tired brain confused, Bart just looked at him, as if not understanding what on earth he was talking about.

"Do you want me to send you up some breakfast?" the clerk asked. "Or are you going to go back to sleep?"

Bart didn't have enough energy to eat at the moment. "I'll get more sleep first." He looked at the baby. "I hope."

The clerk nodded and turned to go. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks," Bart said, watching the baby, who was happily drinking away without a care in the world.

Once the bottle was empty—which again amazed Bart—he went back to his bed and laid down. It was a few minutes before he fell back to sleep though, as he wondered what on earth he was going to do.

TBC


	2. The Trouble Begins

The sound of the baby crying woke Bart again and he groaned. Turning to look at the clock, he saw that it wasn't even eight yet. He'd only gotten around five hours of sleep all night, when he really needed ten or twelve—at least—after the past week of fitful sleep on the ground. Sitting up, he scrubbed at his face before going over to the other bed and sitting on it. "So this is what babies do then?" he asked. "Wake up crying every few hours? I wish you'd warned me." With that, he took her out of the bassinet and changed her nappy again.

The baby stopped crying, and laid there blinking bright blue eyes at him.

Bart couldn't help but smile. She really was adorable. He reached a finger to her cheek and lightly brushed it, getting a smile out of the baby. "When you're not crying, you really are a sweet little thing, aren't you?" he said.

The baby's answer was a yawn.

"I know how you feel," Bart said, yawning himself. He rubbed his eyes with a sigh. "Okay, sweetie, are you ready to go downstairs?" He suddenly wondered if he _could_ bring her into the dining room…then again, he realized that he should keep her hidden from public view; he still didn't know whom she'd been so desperately hidden from. "Scratch that," he said. "I'll be right back." With that, he put her back in the bassinet, grabbed his jacket, and left the room, locking the door behind him. As he headed downstairs, he belatedly realized that he must look disheveled, and ran a hand through his hair.

The desk clerk looked up when Bart approached. "Awake again already?"

Bart sighed. "Yeah, figured I might as well eat. Where can I find the sheriff in this town?"

"Across the street and to the left," said the clerk. "I'll send you up breakfast."

Bart nodded. "Can you send up some hot water for a bath too?" he asked.

"Certainly."

"Thanks," Bart said. He went back upstairs and was glad to find the baby fast asleep. "I hope you stay that way for a while," he said.

The baby's body unexpectedly jerked at the sound of his voice, and Bart held his breath, before letting it out when the baby remained asleep. Quietly, he tiptoed away from the bed and opened the door slightly, so no one would knock on it.

His breakfast arrived quickly, and Bart reclined on his bed and ate, trying not to make a single sound. When the hot water was brought up, there was no way to quietly pour it into the tub, but the baby thankfully didn't wake.

Minutes later, Bart sighed with bliss at the feel of the hot water. He was glad for the screen that prevented the baby from seeing him, even though it was a silly thought, since the baby would have no idea what she was seeing anyway. He stayed in there for a long time, eventually falling into a doze.

The desk clerk was surprised a while later, when he saw the 'widower' come down the stairs dressed in an eastern-style suit, looking much better than the travel-worn man who had arrived the night before. He was carrying the baby, who was thankfully quiet.

"Ah," said the clerk. "You clean up well."

Bart chuckled at that, and the clerk could see that he still looked tired. "Thanks. Can you have the sheets changed in my room, on both beds? I'll need fresh towels, too."

The clerk nodded, knowing that babies were messy. "Yes, sir."

Bart nodded his thanks and headed out the door, crossing the street and looking for the sheriff's office. As he walked, he nonchalantly looked around to see if anyone was watching or following him. He saw no one, and was relieved. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for, and he opened the door and walked in.

An older man was sitting behind a desk, and stood up when Bart entered. "Yes?" he said.

"Hello, Sheriff," said Bart. "My name's Bart Maverick, and I have quite a story to tell you."

The baby chose that moment to gurgle, and the sheriff looked at her. He smiled. "Well, lookie-here," he said. "A baby."

"Do you recognize her?" Bart asked, hopeful.

The sheriff frowned. "Should I?"

Bart sighed. "I was hoping you would." He sat in the chair before the desk. "You see…I found her."

"You _found_ her?!" the sheriff exclaimed.

For the next ten minutes, Bart told him the whole story.

"I was hoping that you would know whom she belongs to," Bart said. "So I can give her back."

"I have no idea," the sheriff told him. "I haven't been the sheriff for very long…I don't know everyone in town yet."

"You don't know of any families that had a new baby a month or two ago?" Bart asked.

The sheriff shook his head.

Bart sighed. "I don't suppose you have a wife who's willing to take her in while we figure out where she belongs?"

The sheriff shook his head. "I'm not married, Mr. Maverick."

"Great," Bart said, with a sigh.

The baby suddenly chose that moment to cry, and Bart started to bounce her around. To his amazement, she stopped.

"It looks like you don't _need_ any help," said the sheriff.

"Believe me, I _do_," Bart told him. "Before this, I could count on one hand how many times I've held a baby in my life. I don't know the first thing about taking care of one!"

"Well," said the sheriff. "I imagine feedin' and changin' are the main things."

"You're right about that," said Bart. "But you're leaving out the fact that they scream you awake all night. I'm exhausted."

"Oh," said the sheriff. "You want me to look around for someone willing to take her in?"

Bart sighed. "The problem with that, sheriff, is that we don't know who the mother hid her from. We could literally place her right into the wrong hands. What we need to find out is who had a baby in the past month or two, and verify that she is here in town with her child. Whoever turns up to be missing is who we're looking for."

The sheriff nodded. "I'll get on it, Mr. Maverick."

Bart smiled. "Thanks." With that, he stood and left the sheriff's office.

Walking down the street, Bart wondered what else he could possibly do. The sheriff might get lucky and find out whom the baby belonged to quickly…but they'd still have to find out what happened to the woman. Bart suddenly stopped walking when he had a terrible thought: what if she hadn't hidden the baby, but had abandoned it because she didn't want it? The thought was chilling. _Could a woman do something like that?_ he wondered. There he was, a man, a bachelor, and he would never dream of abandoning a baby. _No,_ he thought. _That can't be it._ He continued to walk.

Suddenly, a man walked into Bart's path and snatched the baby right out of his hands. At the same time, someone's arms wrapped around Bart's from behind, pulling them back and preventing him from drawing his gun. Bart struggled to get free, but an explosive pain filled his head and stars erupted in his vision. His assailant let go and he fell to the ground, out cold.

When Bart woke up, it was slowly and painfully. He could hear people moving around, and someone kept jostling him. A wave of pain filled his head and he winced, with a groan.

"Take it easy," a voice said. "Someone hit you. Don't worry, we'll get your baby back!"

_Baby?_ Realization of what had happened made Bart's eyes pop open and he bolted upright, despite the many hands that were trying to keep him safely immobile where he lay. Immediately, his head pounded with an intensity that left him breathless. His vision swam badly and he passed out again, tipping over right into the people who were kneeling beside him on the ground.

TBC


	3. Wake Up!

When Bart woke again, it was even slower than before. He felt like he was floating, and his head was throbbing. He couldn't open his eyes no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't even have the strength to groan.

"Hey, are you awake?" a voice said.

Bart didn't answer, still too out of it.

It was obvious to the hotel clerk that Bart was waking, as his eyes had squinted from the pain and he was breathing faster. He reached a hand to Bart's shoulder and gently shook him, hoping to get him fully conscious. He'd been stunned when Bart had been carried senseless into the hotel, and upset to hear that the poor man's baby had been kidnapped. A doctor had been called for and tended to the bleeding cut on the back of Bart's head, and had stayed with him until someone else had needed him to make a house call. Not wanting to leave an unconscious patient alone, the doctor had asked the clerk to stay with him instead. That had been quite a while ago, and the clerk was worried. "Mr. Maverick," he said. "You have to wake up."

The motion of being shaken helped Bart wake a little more, and he suddenly found that he had control over his body again. He was able to groan this time, and dragged his hand up to cover his forehead.

"Are you all right?" the clerk asked.

"No," Bart mumbled. He felt the bandage and tried to turn his head a little to take pressure off the bump, which appeared to be right in the middle of the back of his head.

The clerk squeezed his arm. "The doctor left some pills. Do you think you can take them, or do you feel sick?"

Bart's mind was slowly clearing and he blinked his eyes open. It took a few seconds for his vision to stay still, and a few more seconds for him to assess himself. The headache was awful, but his stomach was only mildly upset, so if he had a concussion, he knew that it was minor.

"Mr. Maverick?" the clerk said, unsure if he'd heard him.

Bart had to think back to the question. "Yes," he said. He knew that he was going to need them if he was going to find the baby, which he fully intended to do.

"Uh…'yes' to which question?" the clerk asked.

Bart frowned, he'd asked him more than one? "Oh," he said, in realization. "The first."

The clerk was glad, and helped Bart sit up before shaking two pills into his hand.

Bart blinked, taking a deep breath. His head was swimming and he had to close his eyes.

The clerk expected that to happen and tightly held onto Bart's arm. "Don't take them if you feel sick," he said. "Or you'll have an even _worse _problem."

Bart was aware of that and waited for a moment, and when his stomach thankfully got no worse, he put the pills into his mouth and drank the water from the glass that the clerk held for him.

The clerk fed him only enough to swallow the pills at first. "All right?" he asked.

Bart's stomach didn't react much, so he said, "All right."

The clerk let him drink the rest of the water, before helping him lie back down.

Bart let out a sigh and put a hand over his forehead and eyes.

"I'm really sorry about what happened," said the clerk, sadly. "The sheriff is questioning all the witnesses."

Bart was glad to hear that; maybe someone recognized the baby's kidnappers. He knew that the clerk thought him to be a father trying to raise his child alone, but his head was hurting too badly for him to explain right now. He needed to quickly regain whatever strength he could as fast as possible so he could get out of there and find that baby.

The clerk thought that Bart's lack of response was out of grief, and he patted his arm in an attempt to comfort him. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

Bart still had his hand over his forehead and eyes, and he realized that his position was unintentionally fueling his appearance of grief. "No," he said. "Thanks for your help."

The clerk nodded.

Suddenly, what appeared to be only a moment later, the clerk was shaking him again. "Mr. Maverick?" he said. "Wake up."

_Wake up? _Bart thought. He opened his eyes and squinted at the clerk. "Huh?"

"You've been sleeping," the clerk said. "Before the doctor left, he told me that if you fell asleep, to wake you after an hour so you don't lose consciousness again."

Bart was confused. How on earth had he fallen asleep with such a headache? He remembered how tired he'd been when he'd arrived in town, and then the baby had kept him up half the night…he blinked his eyes, still exhausted, but he found that the pills had worked to some extent; his head wasn't throbbing as badly.

"Need anything?" the clerk asked.

Bart appreciated the old man's kindness, but he didn't know what time it was or how long he'd been unconscious…he had to find the baby before it was too late! "No," he said. He put a hand over his eyes again. "I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

The clerk nodded sadly and patted his arm, thinking that he wanted to grieve in private; exactly what Bart wanted him to think. "All right, son, I understand. I'll come by in a little while to check on you."

So Bart only had until 'a little while' to get out of there. "Thanks," he said.

The clerk nodded and left.

Bart lay there for a few minutes more, trying to gather strength and mentally convince his headache not to increase once he got up. He finally rolled onto his side and grabbed the nightstand with one hand as he sat himself up. His head betrayed him by pounding, and he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Once the pounding died down as much as he figured it would, he grabbed the nightstand with his other hand and slowly stood up, weakly leaning against the wall when dizziness clouded his senses. _This isn't going to work, _was his first thought, but _I have no choice,_ was his second. Slowly, he opened his eyes and spotted his jacket hanging on the chair that the clerk had been using. He grabbed it and shrugged it on, before slowly making his way over to the dresser and leaning both hands on it as he looked into the mirror.

Bart's reflection was pale and tired, and he reached up to adjust the bandage on his head before picking up his hat and carefully putting it on. He'd hoped to cover the bandage with it, but the hat rim sat right on the bump, so he had to push it up the way his brother Bret usually wore his so it would sit under the bump instead. Of course, that completely exposed the bandage, but what could he do? He sluggishly buttoned his collar and buckled his gunbelt on, before sticking the bottle of pills in his pocket and slowly walking out the door. Carefully, he headed down the stairs, and was glad to see that the clerk wasn't at the front desk. He didn't know how long he would be gone, so he quickly went down the rest of the steps—nearly tripping when it sent his head pounding again—and managed to get out the door without being caught.

TBC


	4. Meet the Parents

Once outside the hotel, Bart had to quickly sit down on the bench near the door to give the pain in his head a chance to calm down. Breathing heavily, he put a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut with a groan.

A hand suddenly touched his shoulder and Bart was startled. He snapped his head up without thinking, and everything spun.

It was the sheriff, who winced when he saw what he'd caused. "Sorry," he said.

Bart fought not to groan again, once again putting a hand over his forehead. "What did you…find out?" he somehow managed to croak.

The sheriff crouched in front of him, to make it easier for Bart to see him. "Not very much yet. Most of the witnesses only saw what happened after you collapsed; it's what got their attention."

Bart sighed at that.

"A few of them actually saw the man grab the baby and watched the other one hit you," the sheriff said. "But no one saw their faces well enough to identify who they are."

"Figures," Bart mumbled, hand still over his forehead.

The sheriff watched him for a minute. "What are you doing out here? You should be resting." He'd been very surprised to see Bart stumble out of the hotel.

"I was coming to see _you_," Bart told him, finally lowering his hand.

"You should've sent someone to fetch me," the sheriff said. "I planned to come fill you in once I had a chance." He stood and gently pulled on Bart's arm. "Now, back inside with you. I'll keep you updated. A posse will get sent out once I know which direction those men went in."

Bart was glad to hear that. "I'll stay here for a while. The fresh air helps."

The sheriff nodded. "Take it easy." He walked off back towards his office.

Bart had no intention on sitting on that bench for long; he couldn't just wait while the baby was missing. It killed him to know that he'd been responsible for her, and now she was gone. He didn't know what he could do at the moment though…his head was protesting every movement, even while he was immobile.

"Mister?"

Bart opened his eyes, not realizing that he'd closed them. A little girl stood in front of him, clutching a doll. "Yes?" he said, wondering what on earth she wanted.

"Did that bad man break your head?"

Despite himself, Bart smiled at the hilarious question. "No," he said. "Thankfully."

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

Bart sighed. "Yes, it does."

"Why did they take your baby?" was her next question.

Bart sighed again. "Like you said, they're bad men."

"This is _my_ baby," she told him, holding out her doll. "Isn't she pretty?"

Bart inwardly sighed. He was in too much pain to be having this conversation. "Very pretty."

"Are you gonna go find _your_ baby?" she asked.

Bart suddenly realized that this little girl must've witnessed what had happened. "Did you see the men attack me?"

She nodded.

"Did you see which way they went?"

She pointed. "That way. They rode right out of town!"

Adrenaline spiked its way through Bart's veins, enabling him to stand up. "Thanks, honey," he said.

She gave him a toothy smile.

Carefully, Bart made his way past the hotel to the livery stable, which was thankfully nearby. His horse nickered when she saw him.

The stable owner had just taken the saddle off a new occupant, and saw him come in. "Can I help you?"

Bart nodded without thinking, and winced. "Could you saddle my horse, please?"

The man eyed the bandage on Bart's head, but didn't appear to know what had happened. He saddled the horse and moved on to continue his work.

Bart gave his horse a pat, mentally preparing himself for what he knew would be a painful action. He stuck his boot into the stirrup and slowly propelled himself up, throwing his other leg over the horse and gripping the saddle horn hard when the action made him dizzy.

The stable master turned when he heard a groan. "Ya'llright?" he asked.

Bart took a deep breath. "Fine," he lied, before steering his horse out the doors. He painfully rode in the direction that the little girl had pointed him in for half an hour before he realized that he should've told her to tell the sheriff what she'd seen. His headache had robbed from him the luxury of rational thought; if he'd been thinking clearly, he would've told the sheriff himself and taken the posse with him rather than go alone.

_What an idiot, _he thought. He had no further time to insult himself before a gunshot suddenly sounded. He practically felt the bullet whiz right past his face, and his horse reared, tossing him to the ground.

Bart gasped as he lay there on his stomach, unable to move thanks to the pain that pounded through his head. A roaring sound filled his ears when he nearly blacked out, and he couldn't draw his gun even if he tried: not knowing up from down at the moment. A few seconds later, he heard someone approaching and he tried to slow his breathing and fake unconsciousness. It appeared to work, for the shooter stood over him for a few seconds before grabbing the reins of Bart's horse and pulling it closer.

A voice suddenly spoke. "Is he dead?"

"No," said the first man. "Lookit, it's the dude who Jim snatched the baby from."

"Looks like you got 'em good!" laughed the second man, when he spotted the bandage around Bart's head.

So the first man was the one who had hit him, and 'Jim' was the one who the baby had been hidden from. Bart didn't remember seeing a third man at the time, but he hadn't seen _anything_ after being hit on the head…

Hands suddenly grabbed him, and Bart realized that they were trying to pick him up. _Taking me home to Jim,_ Bart thought.

"Let's take him back to Jim," said the first man. "He was wondering who this dude is and how he ended up with the baby…now he can ask him!"

The other man helped him lift Bart and drape him over the horse.

Now that the men couldn't see his face, Bart squeezed his eyes shut tighter in a wince. Hanging over a horse was _not_ what his head needed right now. Ten painful minutes of blood rushing to his injured brain passed before the horse stopped. Bart again faked unconsciousness as the men pulled him off the horse and carried him into a small house.

"Look who we found a couple miles away, boss!" the one carrying him by the shoulders exclaimed. "It's the dude who you grabbed the baby from."

"I thought you said that no one saw us leave town!" Jim exclaimed.

"No one did," said the other henchman. "He must've got lucky."

Suddenly, the men's hands were gone and Bart was unexpectedly dropped to the floor, knocking the breath from his lungs and painfully jolting his head. He couldn't prevent a cry of shock from the impact, and tried to suck in a deep breath as he raised a hand to his head.

"Aha," said Jim, seeing that Bart was conscious. He stepped over to him and knelt on the floor, grabbing the front of Bart's jacket in his fist. "Would you mind telling me just _who_ you are?"

Bart opened his eyes, squinting up at the man…the very _big_ man, who surprisingly looked familiar. "I was hoping _you_ could tell _me_," he said, quickly trying to improvise. "Someone attacked me, and when I woke up, I couldn't remember anything." He doubted that they would believe him, but it was worth a try. "I was just out riding when one of your boys shot at me, and—"

"Tie him up," said Jim, not believing a single word.

The two henchmen pulled Bart off the floor and pushed him into a chair, which they quickly tied him to.

"How do you know her?" Jim asked.

Bart frowned. "Her who?"

"Her my wife," Jim said.

Bart blinked. "Your wife? I don't know your wife. How can I know who your wife is when I don't even know who _you_ are?"

Jim frowned. "You must be someone who she knows _very_ well for her to entrust our daughter to you."

Those words surprised Bart. "The baby is your daughter?"

"Yes, and she had no right to hide her from me!" Jim exclaimed.

Suddenly, a sound that Bart was very relieved to hear filled the air: the sound of a baby crying.

"Get her out here," Jim told his henchmen.

One of them went over to a door and opened it, motioning for someone to come out. A few seconds later, someone did…and Bart was finally able to meet the baby's mother.

TBC


	5. Anna and Rosie

A short, dark-haired woman stood in the doorway, holding the baby.

Despite himself, Bart sighed with relief to see that the baby—and her mother—were all right.

The baby's father looked at Bart, noting his reaction. He looked at his wife with a frown. "Who is he, Anna?"

The woman looked at Bart before looking back at her husband with genuine surprise. "I've never seen him before in my life!"

Jim turned and took a menacing step towards her with his hand raised, and she stepped back with an exclamation of fear, half-turning to shield the baby.

Bart was shocked at the show of violence to the woman. "Hey!" he exclaimed, struggling against the ropes. "She's telling the truth!"

Jim turned to look at him.

"Who _are_ you people, anyway?" Bart asked, trying to stall.

"I'm Blazing Jim," said the husband.

"Blazing Jim," Bart echoed. _No wonder she hid her daughter from him,_ Bart thought. 'Blazing Jim' was wanted in several states for everything from stealing horses to murder. He was very strong, and always left injured people in his wake—including himself, Bart realized. His nickname came from how he blazed in and out of towns so fast without ever being caught. "Well, Blazing Jim, your wife is telling you the truth. She did _not_ give me the baby, I found her."

"I told you she was hidden!" Anna exclaimed.

Blazing Jim had found that hard to believe when they'd gone to the supposed hiding spot and found nothing. "I don't believe you. You obviously planned that story together." He looked at Bart, before roughly grabbing his jacket and yanking his wallet out. He looked through it, finding a lot of money. "You're going to regret crossing Blazing Jim, Mr. Maverick," he said, reading the name on the wallet.

Bart sighed. "I already have."

Blazing Jim looked at his men. "Get rid of him," he said, gesturing at Bart.

Bart's eyes grew wide at the implications of that statement, just as the two men grabbed the back of the chair that he was tied to and started dragging it away.

"Hey, wait a minute!" said Bart, fighting to get loose.

He was ignored, and his chair was dragged into the bedroom that the woman had come out from. The men turned and left the room, and Bart was relieved, sucking in a deep breath and hanging his pounding head. He drifted off into a half-aware state until he suddenly felt a hand touch the bandage. He opened his eyes and looked up, wincing when he made himself dizzy again.

Anna came around from behind him. "You need a new bandage, there's blood on that one."

Bart blinked at the sight of the baby lying on the bed a few feet away. He hadn't heard Anna come in. "Where are the others?"

"Gone for a while," she answered.

"Gone?" said Bart. "Untie me!"

Anna sighed. "I can't," she said, sitting on the bed.

Bart blinked. "What do you mean you can't? They plan to kill me!"

Anna sighed again. "Jim said that if I let you go, he'll make sure I never see Rosie again."

"Rosie?" said Bart. "That's her name?"

Anna nodded.

Bart smiled. "I was wondering what it was." He watched the baby for a few seconds, as she lay on the bed sucking on her fist. He was so relieved to see that she was safe. "Would you…do you mind…could you bring her over here?"

Anna smiled and picked Rosie up, taking the few steps over to his chair and holding the baby near his chest.

Bart smiled down at the baby as she looked up at him.

Anna was silent for a minute, watching this man—this stranger—show how much he cared. "You found her, like you told Jim?"

"That's right," said Bart. "I rode past and heard her crying. I thought I'd lost my mind when I spotted her in that tree. I looked everywhere to make sure her mother wasn't nearby, and then took her with me to town. I did my best to take care of her and pretended that she was mine, in case someone was out to get her." He sighed. "I failed in the end."

Anna frowned and shook her head, moving back to sit on the bed. "You didn't fail! They attacked you." She placed the baby back on the bed when she remembered that she'd wanted to change Bart's bandage. "And then, despite your injury, you came after her. You're a hero, Mr. Maverick, and I don't know how I can ever thank you."

Bart looked up at her as she passed him. "A hero who isn't going to live much longer."

Anna heard him and stopped, before turning around and moving to stand in front of him again. "But what can I _do_?" she wailed. "He's a very dangerous man, and I fear for my life and my daughter's!"

Bart didn't blame her, and said nothing.

Anna left the room again and came back a minute later with some bandages. They were both quiet as she removed the old one, and Bart couldn't stop himself from flinching when she dabbed at the wound with a wet cloth.

"I'm sorry that they did this to you," she said, trying to be gentle. "You didn't deserve it."

Bart sighed. "I don't deserve to _die_ even more. Listen, why don't the three of us head towards town. The sheriff knows about the situation, and for all I know, he's heading this way with a posse."

Anna thought about it for a minute. "Really?" That changed things; if the sheriff _was_ heading in their direction, he might encounter Blazing Jim and would likely recognize him from the wanted posters. For all they knew, the sheriff might have already caught him!

"Really," said Bart.

Anna said nothing more, giving up on trying to clean the wound as the blood dried, and wrapping a new bandage around his head. She then left, came back with a kitchen knife, and started cutting the ropes.

Bart was taken by surprise, having not really expecting her to let him go. He quickly stood up before she could change her mind, but the room spun. He stumbled forward towards the bed and placed his hands on the mattress, and after blinking everything back into focus, found the baby staring up at him. She gurgled and smiled, and Bart suddenly realized that a pair of arms were trying very hard to hold him up; not only to prevent further injury coming to him, but also to stop him from falling onto the baby. He quickly shifted to sit on the bed.

Anna was relieved. "Can you walk?" she asked.

Bart let out a breath. "Yeah. Stood up too fast," he said.

Anna wasn't sure whether to believe him. She picked the baby up in one arm and tugged on Bart with her other hand. "We have to hurry," she said.

Bart knew that she was right, and the urgency provided his body with a spike of adrenaline, enabling him to make his way through the house and out the door. He looked around to ensure that no one was around, before they hurried to the stable.

Once there, Bart was taken by surprise when the baby was suddenly placed into his arms.

"Sit down," Anna said. "I'll do it."

Bart opened his mouth to protest, before noticing that his horse was still saddled; the men hadn't removed it. Deciding that Anna was capable of saddling her own horse, he obeyed rather than waste time arguing about it. Once she finished and mounted, Bart handed her the baby and mounted himself.

"We can't gallop," Anna told them as they rode out of the stable.

That was certainly true; the baby was too fragile to endure a wild, bumpy ride…and at the moment, so was Bart.

"I know," he said.

With that, they left.

TBC


	6. The End

Things started out well; for ten minutes, Bart and Anna rode towards town with no problems, but naturally, it didn't last.

Suddenly, Blazing Jim's men rode out from the bushes, with Jim appearing in front of them.

"I knew this would happen," said Jim. He took out his gun and pointed it at Bart.

"Jim!" Anna exclaimed.

Jim looked at her angrily. "You'd rather have _him_ than _me_?"

"I want my daughter to be safe!" Anna said.

Taking that as a 'yes', Jim pulled the hammer back on the gun. "You're dyin', boy!"

"Now wait a minute!" Bart exclaimed. "I'm just helping a lady in distress, here! I'm not taking your wife and child as my own!"

"No?" said Jim. "It kinda looks like you are!" He suddenly smiled. "Get off that horse."

Bart didn't move.

"_Now_," said Jim, pointing the gun at Anna instead.

Bart quickly obeyed, nearly tripping when he moved too fast for his injured head to handle.

Blazing Jim got down from his own horse and walked over to Bart, gun still raised. "It looks like there's only one solution to all this," he said. He took Bart's gun out of his waistband and held it out. "I'm gonna have to give this back to you."

Bart said nothing as he took it.

"We can't _both_ have her," said Jim. "And if _you_ get her, then I better not be alive or you're all dead."

"What do you have in mind, then?" Bart asked, having the niggling feeling that he should've already figured it out, but his headache was crowding out his ability to think.

"What else but a duel?" said Jim.

Bart's heart did a flip in his chest. That was the _last_ thing he was currently interested in doing. "A duel?"

Jim nodded. "May the best man win. Turn around, or die right now!"

Anna watched in shock.

Bart suddenly heard Pappy's voice inside his head say, _"Never get involved, or you might get dead." _

Jim stood with his back to Bart's, and he started walking slowly and counting the paces aloud. "One. Two. Three."

Bart had no choice but to do the same. _"But Pappy," _he argued back inside his head._ "It was a helpless baby, I HAD to do something!"_

Blazing Jim had no intention on losing this duel, and after he said 'five', he turned around.

Anna wasn't surprised at all that Jim hadn't counted to ten, and shouted, "BART!"

Bart turned and threw himself to the side at the same time, landing on the ground as Jim's bullet harmlessly passed him. He fired his own gun, and the bullet struck Jim in the stomach.

Bart never saw Jim fall; he never even saw the bullet hit the man. Throwing himself to the ground had _not_ agreed with his head injury, and he lay there in a half-conscious daze as Anna got down from the horse, laid the baby beside him, and rushed over to her husband. He barely registered when the sheriff suddenly arrived with his posse, and only came back to himself when someone shook him. He opened eyes that he didn't remember closing, to see the sheriff's concerned face above him.

"You all right?" the sheriff asked.

Bart was hardly able to form any words as his head pounded with pain. All he could manage was a groan. A minute later, he was picked up and put onto his horse—thankfully upright, this time—and the next time he opened his eyes, he was lying in bed in his hotel room.

Bart was momentarily confused, not remembering anything after the duel. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember much of _that_, either.

"How do you feel?" he suddenly heard.

Opening his eyes, he found Anna sitting beside his bed. He dragged up a hand and placed it over his eyes. "I feel fine," he weakly mumbled. "It's my _head_ that's upset."

She smiled slightly.

Bart took a deep breath and lowered his hand. "What happened?" he asked.

"Jim is dead," she answered.

Bart wasn't sure how to answer that. "I'm sorry," he said.

Anna sighed, before saying, "Don't be. He was a monster."

Bart looked at her. "And now you're free."

She nodded.

_Free, but alone to raise a child without a husband,_ Bart thought. "What will you do?" he asked.

"I sent a telegram to my parents," Anna told him. "I'm sure that I can go home to them."

Bart was glad to hear that. "Good," he said relieved. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling himself drifting off.

A hand touched his arm. "Thank you, Bart," Anna said. "You saved my life, and Rosie's, too."

Bart smiled as he fell asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bart spent the next two days in bed. He should've stayed there longer, but Anna and Rosie were leaving on the morning stage, and he wanted to take her to dinner. His head still ached, but the relentless pounding had abated, making the pain easier to bear.

As he looked at himself in the mirror, Bart was disappointed to see that he was still pale. He'd removed the bandage on his head—prematurely—just for dinner, and it improved his appearance, at least. There was a knock on his door, and he said, "Come in."

Anna walked in, looking beautiful in a new pink dress. She carried Rosie, who was gurgling. "You look better," she said, thinking how handsome he was in his formal suit. "But are you sure you should be up yet?"

Bart smiled at her as he walked over. "I wouldn't miss this for the world," he said. He smiled down at Rosie and stuck his finger in her fist.

Anna chuckled. She watched Bart as he smiled at her baby, and she secretly wished that the three of them could stay together; but they'd talked a lot over the past couple of days, and Bart didn't seem the type to settle down…not yet.

She would miss him, and she wished that Rosie was old enough to remember him.

A few minutes later, they were sitting at a table in the dining room, and they had a lovely dinner. Anna kept wishing that Bart would ask for her hand in marriage, but he never did. She didn't sleep well that night, and the next day, when Bart came to escort her outside, she had to pretend to be happy.

"Soon, this whole thing will be behind you," he said to her.

She nodded with a fake smile. "Yes, finally."

They were quiet as they made their way downstairs and outside the hotel. They sat on the bench, and Anna saw Bart wince. "How's your head?"

Bart had wisely put the bandage back on after dinner the night before, and he sighed. "Still attached," he said.

Rosie suddenly gurgled and they both looked at her.

"Is it all right if I hold her one last time?" Bart asked.

_One last time…_ Anna wished that it _wouldn't_ be the last time. "Of course," she said. She took Rosie out of the bassinet and handed her over.

Bart smiled at the baby. "Well, little Rosie," Bart said. "You be a good girl for your mama, all right?"

Rosie giggled.

Bart smiled wider. "Good girl."

The stage suddenly came around the corner and headed for the hotel. Bart waited for it to arrive before he stood and placed Rosie back in her bassinet.

Anna reluctantly stood, and watched as the stagecoach driver climbed down and took her bags, throwing them on top of the coach. "Bart," she said.

Bart looked at her.

Anna knew that this was her last chance. "I…I don't have to go."

Bart instantly knew what she was saying. He smiled and took her hand. "Yes you do," he said. "I'm not ready to settle down."

Anna looked down at the ground.

Bart tipped her chin up. "You need to go…and take this, too." With that, he put an envelope in her hand.

Anna raised the envelope and opened it. Her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped when she saw what was inside. "What's this?!"

"There was a reward on Big Jim," Bart said.

Anna looked at him in shock. "There's five thousand dollars here!"

Bart nodded. He picked up the bassinet and took Anna's arm, walking her to the stage. "I want you to have it, for Rosie."

Anna was speechless as Bart helped her get into the carriage. Looking down in the bassinet, Bart said, "Remember what I told you, Rosie."

The baby smiled and squealed.

Bart smiled and kissed her on the forehead before passing the bassinet to Anna in the carriage.

The driver closed the door and climbed back up.

Anna stuck her hand out the window. "Bart…thank you. I'll never forget you."

Bart took her hand. "Make sure you tell Rosie about me."

Anna smiled. "I will; she'll always know who her hero is. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Bart said. He kissed her hand and let go.

The driver flicked the reins, and the horses started walking. Anna watched Bart out the window until she couldn't see him anymore.

Bart again remembered Pappy's advice to never get involved. "Sometimes you're right, Pappy," he said to himself. "But sometimes, you're wrong." He waved as the carriage drove off, before mounting his horse and riding out of town.

THE END


End file.
